Funny Things Happen When Cars Brake Down
by AuroraRose12
Summary: When you attend a Fine Arts school anything is lible to happen when your car brakes down on Halloween rated T for later chapters for language i'm not so good at summaries PLEASE READ!


WARNING: This fanfiction is not responsible for any of the following—

Tipped waterbottles due to flailing arms (it's been known to happen…take it from someone who knows), gut rentching laughter that wakes elderly parents, small children, snoring dwaves, or violent animals who run around in large purple balls and get stuck in corners. Also, the Author is not held responcible for cliffhangers, evil character treatment to please audience members, or the snoring dwarves. Please be aware, therefore, that this is based very closely to the Author's life and appreciates comments but don't flame or throw things at her because it's proven that she will Cry! (Beacuase she is a wimp and a sucker to please the crowd) READ THIS STORY AT YOUR OWN RISK OF SHEAR AMUSEMENT. You have been warned. (And please… this story is for entertainment only! The author is asking that you please do not steal anything from this story. All the new characters are of her own making but the rest belong to JK Rowling.) Thank you and enjoy the show!

**Funny Things Happened when Cars Brake Down**

It was simply one of those days in which Murphy's bloody Law was proven absolutely true: if something bloody well is going to happen, no matter how well one prepares, it bloody well is going to happen!

It all started on the morning of October 31st.

First of all, a freaky day in and of itself. Second, the power blew the night before, so my alarm was flashing an eight hour difference when I lifted a rather frozen eyelid the next morning. Thirdly, my window drapes were thickly covering the weak morning sunlight so irrevocably that I found it not the least bit strange to sleep in seeing as how the clock blazed 1:30 am.

So when my cell phone split the blissful gloom of my warm cocooned bedsheets with Voldemort's theme I thought that Mr. You-Know-Who Riddle himself was going to _Avada Kadavera_ me out of bed in a minute. But instead it was my faithful 'Stina whose voice pealed fomr the other end of the line in a harsh squeal of 'Where the hell are you?' I suddenly looked at my phone clock and nearly screamed. 9:15AM! Blazed itself deep into my delirious sleep sodden eye sockets.

" Stina…I'll be there in ten minutes."

I didn't hear what she said exactly, but I believe it was something along the lines of 'Maddoux is gonna kill you…!'

After dressing in record time and making English class just in time to catch a rather disappointed look from the Maddoux (our amazing English teacher is that so amazing-ly awesome) as she sat listening not too intently at a fellow senior reciting Shakespeare's "Hamlet" 'To be or not to be..' as if Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had died all over again.

I found myself flustered and out of time to perform the longest scene Willie had _ever_ invented! Normally on such a holiday as this All Hallows Eve was spent reading ghost stories in language class or Edgar Allen Poe's The Mask of the Red Death by candlelight. But no such luck today.

Seems everyone had a rough night with all the wind from the past few days. The lights in the school kept flickering on and off as if our ancient janitor hadn't taken medicine for his Parkinson's. Ridiculous if you ask me, that everyone (now matter how many times the lights would sudden throw us into pitch blackness) (AN: the classes are all underground. No kidding. And only in three classrooms do we have these little panes of glass with bars on them. So either way…this school could literally be called a prison) would scream and that every time the teacher would have to yell over them to shut up! The weather had a funny way of sneaking up on you and blowing all your plans. The forecast said freezing temperatures were inevitable and even possibly sleet. Not the best of nights to have a closing show on.

Oh yes. Not only did we have to memorize scenes of Hamlet and perform them in class, and finish posters about the completely thrilling subject of branches of government and all the houses and blah for Economics class—but we all had closing night nerves for our musical that weighed whether or not we held our spot as number one in the state of all the high schools.

It was a battle zone when one chanced the hallways when the bells rang. (AN: we have the strangest bells in the world! We took pieces of famous operas and symphonies and did 15 second worth clips to chance classes. We had Bach and Beethoven and the 'Ride of the Valkeries'. We even did a week worth of 80's music like Flashdance and Rocky and Boy George. It was great! That's what you get for going to a Fine Arts school!) Students expelled from crammed classroom doorways in droves merely to clog the walkways with eager gossip about the latest injustice of the set drew or late paper. Pathetic really, if you ask me, seeing as how the set crew and techies eagerly slandered the cast in hushed tones to match the others. Everyone was at everyone's throats! Even some of the teachers had taken sides (though would never reveal it if you weren't in special circles who spoke with these certain teachers) in the 'Drama Wars' (which could be equivalent to a World War in theatre terms)!

All high school drama that finally balances itself out at a fine arts school. But since we students can't survive without it, this was all pretty much the constant order of the day…every day. Except the cast and crew were all working on maybe seven to ten hours of sleep a week (AN: I'm not exaggerating at all. This really does happen and the techies get it the worst, so most of the time they just sleep two hours up at the school before the school day starts.) and most of the techies were running on bad Starbucks and complaining that the energy-drinks weren't working anymore. (AN: I have to tell you all that three of our techies actually went into withdrawals and one had to go to the hospital because of all the energy-drinks and stimulants they had taken with no sleep. It's still talked about!) And school days passed by all of our eyes like the deep purple shadows that had become a permanent part of our anatomy. Most of the chorus girls (myself included) came to school with curlers in our hair so that our hair would be ready for the following night. It was simply too much trouble to try and hot-iron our hair and hour before the show. (AN: I actually wore a red bandana like the girl of the women's lib poster 'Rosie the Riveter' or something like that…we've got pictures on the yearbook) And nothing: not weather, not Shakespeare, not even if God himself appeared—could sort out the regular mess of this day.

(AN: now that all the background is clear…let's hope…I'm going to plunge ahead into the story.)


End file.
